


love makes one do idiotic things

by goodmorninglou



Series: the adventures of a wild sprace’s apartment [40]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sprace Apartment AU, past abusive relationships, spot runs into an ex, sprace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 09:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20486315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorninglou/pseuds/goodmorninglou
Summary: spot and race run into spot’s ex





	love makes one do idiotic things

**Author's Note:**

> hiya loves!!  
past abuse warning for this chapter, not explicit but there are injuries  
this is prolly real outta character for spot but yknow hasn’t Spot always been outta character in this series  
hope y’all enjoy!!

Spot was a strong man. He was built like a fucking ox, and he knew how to tell someone off with words before he even thought about using his fists.

But with the people he loved, the people he cared for and about—he couldn’t so much as a raise a finger against those people.

He and Race were walking out of Jack and Davey’s building, hands clasped between them as they laughed at something Race had said in the elevator, when Spot ran smack dab into someone’s chest.

“Shit.” Spot hissed, and then, “Whoops.”

“Oh my god, Spot?”

Spot’s heart froze in his chest.

Harry looked the same as he had when Spot had dumped him—that is, beautiful and unattainable and cold. Spot had broken up with him for two reasons: the first being that Harry very obviously didn’t love him as much as he loved Harry, and the second being that Harry beat the shit out of him every time they were alone together.

—

_“Spot.”_

_“It’s not a big deal.” Spot whispered, crawling in Race’s window from the fire escape. He was seventeen, bleeding, and very, very tired._

_“You have a black eye!” Race yelled, and Spot shushed him desperately. “It is a big deal.” He added, quieter._

_“I got in a fight.” Spot lied, tiptoeing into Race’s bathroom._

_Race fixed him with a sad, pitying look that was worse than anger. “No you didn’t.” He said simply, sighing._

_Spot said nothing, just lifted himself onto Race’s sink and watched his best friend gather cotton balls and rubbing alcohol._

_Race washed blood softly off Spot’s cheek, standing in between his knees. “Why won’t you break up with him?” He whispered._

_“Because I care about him.” Spot responded quietly, and watched Race’s eyes close momentarily. “And I know he cares about me.”_

_Race looked up into Spot’s gaze. “Some people just aren’t worth it.”_

_“Race.” Spot said firmly. “I’ve never started caring for someone who I couldn’t count on. Everyone I love is someone who I know is always going to be there for me.”_

_Race blinked. “You love him?” He murmured, not hurt, not happy._

_Spot looked down. “I think I could.”_

_Race laughed, once, harsh and short, and then pushed away from the counter and whipped the washcloth in his hand onto the floor. He swiped the rubbing alcohol off the sink, and it chugged slowly onto the tiles._

_Spot just leaned away. “Race!” He whispered fiercely._

_“Don’t you see what he’s doing?” Race yelled, raking a harsh hand trough his hair. Spot hopped off the sink in a desperate attempt to quiet him. “What’s it going to take, Spot? Breaking a rib?! The ER? A fucking coma?!”_

_“Race, please quiet down.” Spot pleaded, glancing precariously to the bathroom door._

_“Why should I? If we’re both doing stupid things now, why shouldn’t I scream in the middle of the night and wake up my sister and mother, huh?!”_

_Another step forward. “Race, please.”_

_“He’s going to kill you!”_

_Spot stepped right into Race’s space and covered his mouth with a hand, holding his cheek with the other, gently. “Race, stop.” He begged._

_Race took one breath. Two. Spot lowered his hand._

_“I want you to really think.” Race said harshly, shaking his head. “The next time this happens, I want you to really imagine me, or Jack, or Medda or any of our friends who actually love you doing what that fucking prick does, and then come back here and look me in the eye while you tell me he’s worth your love.”_

_Spot swallowed. “Okay.” He whispered simply, head ducking._

_Race ran a hand through Spot’s curls, soft and slow, and sighed. “Hop up.” He said quietly, gesturing to the sink. “You’re still bleeding.”_

_Spot managed a weak smile, somehow, and sat back on the countertop._

_Two days later, when Spot crawled through Race’s window bleeding and crying and hyperventilating, Race didn’t say I told you so. He just held Spot close and promised him that everything was going to be okay._

_And somehow, in some way, it was._

—

“Hello?”

“H-hi.” Spot breathed.

Half a moment, and Race had stepped between the two of them, fixing Harry with a deadly, unfeeling gaze.

Harry’s brown eyes flashed. “Let’s not be like that, yeah?”

Race raised his chin. “You can get fucked.” He grinned like a hyena.

“Spot.” Harry leaned around Race’s head to smile condescendingly at Spot. “How are you?”

Spot tightened. “Married.” He said triumphantly, and then stepped up to Race’s side, placing a calming hand on the small of his back. 

Harry sucked his teeth and nodded, looking between the two of them. “Yup, saw that one coming. Never been a dumped for a best friend—it’s new.”

“That’s not why I dumped you.” Spot tried to snarl, but it came out as more of a strive for toughness that failed. Something about Harry just made Spot’s entire body shut down. 

Harry raised a hand to rake it through his hair.

In his right mind, Spot knew that Harry wasn’t going to hit him. That his husband was there beside him, to protect him and keep him close, that he was safe from harm. But something in him—call it belated fear, or something simply out of habit—recoiled, inside and out. He flinched back, stumbling over his own feet until Race’s ever-gentle, ever-loving hands steadied him. Harry just stared at him, dark eyes unreadable.

Race’s fingers twined with his, and Spot felt himself come back down to earth. 

Race. He had Race, perfect Race, who loved and cared for him and who protected him. Race who was the calm in the storm, the buoy in the churning ocean. His husband and his person.

“Let’s go.” Spot muttered calmly, staring Harry down.

He tugged on Race’s hand once, twice, until he’d finally managed to pull his husband away from glaring into Harry’s face.

They made it two blocks before Race let out his breath and kissed the side of Spot’s head. “I can kill him for you.” He murmured against Spot’s skin.

Spot patted his chest. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Race smiled, short and gentle, and then searched Spot’s face. “Are you alright?” He murmured, in a low voice.

Spot nodded, surprised at the fact that it was true. “He can’t hurt me.”

Race leaned forward to kiss him, warm and just a little desperate, and breathed, “Not while I’m around.”

Spot grinned.

“Not while you’re around.” He agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> i can’t stop listening to tuck everlasting, beetlejuice, waitress, and little shop  
it’s a very strange mixture  
be happy, because blind people smile even though they’ve never seen anyone else smile, and that’s beautiful  
love yallllll  
<333


End file.
